Battle Campaigns
by mattmetzger
Summary: By this point in their relationship, they don't really need to say anything. Jack/Ianto, the beginnings of smut. #44 from 'Snapshots of Smiles'.


**Notes: The full oneshot for #44 out of 'Snapshots of Smiles'. Requested by toobeauty.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood and I am not making any profit from this work.**

**Battle Campaigns**

Ianto was attacked beside the coffee machine.

The initial attack consisted of a pair of arms snaking around him from behind to remove the cup from his hands, before they locked around his front and pulled down until Ianto's own arms were pinned to his sides.

"Hello," Jack said.

"Hello," Ianto replied. "What do you want?"

"Hmm, let me think..." Jack mused, pressing a kiss into the soft flesh of Ianto's neck. When the collar obstructed more of that neck, Jack's hands wandered up again to undo the tie. "I think it's time we left the office, yes?"

"Figuratively speaking?"

"Of course," Jack said, slipping the tie free and flinging it haphazardly over the coffee machine, where it dangled forlornly. "The others are gone, the animals are fed, and the night is deepening. What better to commit unspeakable acts of sin?"

"Maybe I don't want to commit unspeakable acts of sin," Ianto said.

"I'm sure I could persuade you," Jack leered, unbuttoning the collar and continuing to lavish kisses on the pale column of Ianto's neck. Ianto sighed and rolled his head back to rest on Jack's shoulder, his hands coming up to grasp Jack's arm where it rested across the front of his suit-clad shoulders.

"There's still paperwork to get through," Ianto said.

"There's a suit to get through," Jack agreed absently, "but the paperwork can wait."

He turned Ianto around and kissed him then, hard enough to make his toes curl, and pressing him back against the counter until he didn't need his legs to stand up any more. Jack's kisses were heat and passion fused with a subte tenderness that made itself known when those initially hard, forceful attacks softened when Ianto moved to respond.

It was only when they broke apart so that Ianto could breathe that he noticed Jack was expertly sliding the suit jacket off. He let Jack take it the rest of the way, wincing when he tossed it on the floor, but he wasn't allowed the time to protest verbally as he was kissed again.

Thus liplocked, they stumbled their way from the kitchen to the bottom of the steps to Jack's office. Somewhere along the short route, Ianto lost his waistcoat and shirt, and soon Jack's hands were playing over Ianto's bare skin, flushed with exertion and arousal. Those hands were unusually large, but gentle and clever, and fully informed of their task. They dug into Ianto's hips to leave slight bruises, skittered over Ianto's ribs as if playing a delicate musical instrument, and settled, strong and sure and unyielding, on Ianto's shoulderblades to hold him there for the moment.

"Isn't this where Gwen walks in?" Jack grinned, and Ianto laughed breathlessly.

"You're not naked yet," he pointed out, sliding his hands under Jack's shirt and untucking it in the process. Jack beamed, peppering kisses that would be bite-marks over Ianto's shoulders, wringing tiny noises from Ianto's lips that Jack knew how to interpret correctly by now.

It had been something Jack had had to get used to. Ianto was very vocal when he came undone like this, but the sounds he made weren't always obvious in their meaning. Several times, early on in their relationship, Jack would have stopped dead at this point, worried he was doing something wrong, or hurting him.

Now, he carried on, ignoring Ianto's voice and concentrating instead on his movements, as he was supposed to do.

"I have a decision to make," Jack said between kiss-bites. "Whether to turn this battle into a massacre and whisk you away to the dungeons to have my wicked way with you..."

Ianto hummed appreciatively as he tossed Jack's braces away and pushed his shirt off his shoulders.

"...or whether to make this a peaceable merger between two empires. An alliance, perhaps."

"Taking the metaphor too far, Jack," Ianto warned, splaying his hands out over Jack's lower back. When Jack bit his neck _hard _in reprimand, Ianto groaned and dropped his forehead into the groove between Jack's neck and shoulder. "_Jesus_..."

"Decision made," Jack said, then suddenly dropped down and shoved Ianto hard so that he fell over Jack's shoulder with a surprised yell. Which turned into a groan of protest when Jack literally carried him up the stairs to the office.

"_Jack_!" Ianto whined, before grinning and slipping his hands between Jack's trousers and his backside.

"Oh _God_, Yan!" Jack yelped when he felt those skilled hands start to knead their way over his flesh, and he hurriedly put Ianto down again in the office. "Sadistic Welsh bastard."

"Absolutely," Ianto said, and received another kiss that had him being pressed firmly into the desk.

"So you're going to fight me, are you?" Jack growled, his hands getting a little rougher, a little firmer, a little more exciting.

"Like I said," Ianto hissed, almost ripping open the front of Jack's trousers, "I might not _want _you to have your wicked way with me."

"That says otherwise," Jack said, pressing them together hard until their arousals were extremely obvious. "That says you want me to throw you into my chamber and pin you to the bed, keep you going until you're screaming, and nobody will hear you because nobody's _here_..."

"Fuck!" Ianto growled. "Bed! Now!"

Jack grinned, and stepped away with a bow.

"That's what I was waiting for," he said lecherously, and pounced.

* * *

Later, sated and exhausted and curled together in sweat-dampened sheets, Ianto closed his eyes and felt Jack pull him in against his chest. He relaxed into the warmth and security as though the Hub could explode and it wouldn't touch him there.

"Wore you out, did I?" Jack's voice washed over him, and Ianto smiled wearily.

"Yep," he agreed contentedly, but didn't open his eyes.

"So I win?"

"Win?"

"The war."

"No, the battle. The war is not yet lost," Ianto said firmly, rolling to bury his face into Jack's chest and listen to his calming heartbeat.

"So how will the war last?" Jack asked, a grin in his face. "Will it be over by Christmas?"

"Christmas in thirty years, maybe," Ianto agreed.

There was a short silence, and Ianto realised that he'd given away perhaps more than he wanted to, or more than Jack was comfortable with. But after a moment, the arms around him tightened and he relaxed again.

"Love you too," Jack said hoarsely.

Ianto smiled and curled his arms around Jack's torso, but didn't say anything in return.

He didn't really need to, these days.


End file.
